


Firefly

by space_cucumber08



Category: IT-2017
Genre: Abuse, Anxiety, Depression, Human! Pennywise - Freeform, M/M, More tags to be added, Self Harm, Social Workers, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2020-03-08 22:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18903550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_cucumber08/pseuds/space_cucumber08
Summary: When Bill Denbrough collapses from lack of nutrients after the disappearance of his brother, he’s taken by a seemingly kind social worker to live in a crowded foster home outside of Derry. As Bill grows older and gains his strength back, he learns to love his new family and move on from the pain and loss he endured in his home that fateful October day.





	1. Mr. Keen’s

Life was hard for Bill Denbrough. His little brother had been missing since October, and his parents seemed to like pretending as if he had went missing too. He had grown skinnier, and a ghostly pale. You could count the bones that stuck out of his back, and the ones that ran down his chest. Groceries weren’t often kept in the house, and the nightly dinners that had once been hearty and nutritious had stopped. He survived off what he got at school, and on the weekends left over granolas and frozen burritos and water from the tap. 

Yes life was very hard for Bill Denbrough.

He sat in his room, looking out the window and drawing the tree leaves that blew in the summer sun. Bill was always one to write and draw. It was a talent of his, not that since last October anyone had appreciated it. Not even himself. It was the first time that year since little Georgie Denbrough went missing that he had picked up his sketch book at all.

But with school out for the summer, he hadn’t had much to do. He didn’t have friends. His stutter kept most kids from even approaching him. He never seemed to have the energy to go out and do things on his own. He always seemed to get dizzy or fatigued far too quickly. So he sat in his hot and quiet room (his parents had deemed the air conditioning bill far too high to keep up) 

Bill stood from his small place in the window, stretching slightly and setting his sketchbook down. It had been at least a day and a half since he had last eaten, and he was quite literally starving. He gathered the crumpled dollar bills from his jean pocket and counted it slowly. 

Five dollars… he had found it in his old piggy bank and well. Desperation was desperation. He wasn’t sure how he’d survive the summer quite honestly. Maybe resort to stealing from the pharmacy? He was sure he could steal a microwavable meal or two once a week and it not cause too much damage. But he’d cross that bridge when he got to it.

He made his way downstairs, hoping to avoid his father (who he loved very dearly but had taken up to drinking and… well he really didn’t want a repeat of last month when he’d interrupted his nap to ask if maybe he’d give him some money to go to the grocery store.)  
He past through the parlor, looking around the room quietly. His father lay asleep in the lounge chair, one arm cast over the side. If Bill had to guess, his mother was in her room like always. Looking over pictures of Georgie and sobbing quietly into the pillows. 

Bill had never blamed his parents… but he blamed himself. Things would be happier if it were him who had went missing. Not his darling baby brother. But he tried not to dwell too much on it. Instead, he created stories and daydreams in his head. Universes where brothers didn’t go missing and food and love where plentiful. 

Bill opened the door looking slightly over at his bike, Silver. He had missed riding a ton, but she was just too heavy and he could no longer peddle the weight for long. Especially around town. 

He made his way down Jackson and Witcham, enjoying the breeze in his face. It’d been awhile since he’d been out of the house. He just hoped he wouldn’t run into Henry Bowers and his gang of disgusting imbeciles. 

The nice breeze, however, was short lived. His head began to spin lightly as he made his way into the town and towards the pharmacy. He could feel the sun beating down on his skin and his stomach churned. He no longer felt hungry, but he knew he had to eat. 

His legs grew heavier and his mind swarmed with mild panic, but he pushed on anyway. 

When he finally made his way to the outside of the pharmacy he pushed open the door, struggling a tad at the heavier metal. Mr. Keen looked up as the bell jingled. 

“You alright son…?” He asked, coming around the counter. A few of the customers turned to look as well. Bill felt his knees shake and he grabbed onto the wall slightly. 

“I...I-I’m fine.” Bill stuttered out. “Just f...f-feel a little light h-headed’s all.” He sat down on the cold floor, his body felt like it was on fire. Mr. Keen looked him up and down, his brow furrowing slightly. He hadn’t seen any of the Denbrough’s in a long long time. It wasn’t like he was extremely friendly with Zach… but Bill and his brother always came by for an ice cream or so during the summer. Then, Bill had looked like a happy and healthy boy. But now he looked on the brink of starvation.  
“Why don’t we get you back in the office, boy?” Mr. Keen asked, lifting Bill up by his arm. 

Bill couldn’t process what he said, however. Or the onlooking bystanders who begin to come over to Mr. Keen, suggesting they call someone to take care of the problem. Whatever that meant. 

Bills mind was totally blank, aside from the mild relief he felt when the edges of his vision started to go black. Yes he needed to rest for just a minute. 

When Bill woke up, his mind went a mile a minute. So fast, in fact, he was surprised. It had felt like everything in him was numbed until now. He could barely process a thought before. 

‘Where am I?’ ‘What happened?’ ‘Am I alright?’ Where all questions running through his head.

He felt a sharp pain in his arm when he jerked it forward and he yelped slightly. An IV and heart monitor where attached to his still slightly pale arms. 

“William?” Bill looked up, his eyes looking at the lady who he hadn’t noticed before. “William, my names Seandra. I’m a social worker… Mr. Keen said you passed out in his store.” She spoke quietly, coming to stand at the foot of his bed. 

Bill only scrunched up his nose slightly. Social worker? Where were his parents? Where was he? The only thing he could process was the fact she had called him William. He’d always hated being called that.

“B… B-Bill. I go b-by Bill.” He corrected her. He moved his hands into his lap and fiddled with them slightly. He knew what a social worker was… of course. He’d remembered the Kaspbrak boy being taken out of school one day by one. Their teacher had tried to explain that Eddie had been taken somewhere that someone would take better care of him, but Bill didn’t n e e d someone to take better care of him. He loved his parents just fine.

“Bill,” she smiled. “I know you’ve been through a lot the last year. And i’d like to help you.”  
“H-Help? I d...d-don’t need help.” Bill said matter of factly. He pulled his knees slightly closer to him. He was almost 12. He could get by just fine on his own. He even learned how to do his own laundry. 

“I’m sure you don’t… you’re a very strong boy, Bill.” She said, nodding her head. She pulled a folder out of her leather bag, and sat it on her lap. “The doctors gave you a check-up after we put you on an IV to help with the lack of nutrients and dehydration that caused you to collapse.”

Collapse? No he had… He had just needed to rest a moment. 

“They found old bruisings along your ribs… they look about a month old. Would you like to tell me about that, Bill? Anything you say is strictly between us.” Seandra finished. 

“M...My parents have h...h-had a rough time since G...G-Georgie went m...m-missing.” Bill said, feeling tears prick at his eyes at the sheer thought of his baby brother. “B...B-but it’s not their fault! They… They love m-me.” Bill said matter of factly. 

Seandra nodded slowly. “I’m sure they do, Bill. But I know that you know they’ve been having some problems lately. We can help you, Bill. Until your parents get their heads back.”

“D… D-Do I have a c-choice?” Bill asked, growing angrier with the social worker. He wasn’t a child. 

“There’s a very nice family right outside of Derry. They take in kids like you. You’ll be happy there.” Seandra stood and putting her hand lightly on his arm. “They’ll be here at noon. I’ll give you some time to eat breakfast and clean up.” Seandra walked out of the room with that, leaving Bill on the sterile bed alone.


	2. Robert

The nurses had brought in a breakfast of two eggs and a piece of toast, which Bill ate greedily. Although they’d tried to explain eating too much too fast would only make him sick, he’d secretly wished they’d just given it to him anyway.

He’d turned on the tv for awhile, enjoying just laying in the air conditioned room and being pretty full and content for the first time in… well, months. He turned his head when he heard a knock on the door. He instinctively pulled his knees up a bit, still a bit frazzled and upset over the new environment.

“Bill? I have you a change of clothes, hun.” An older nurse said, smiling a bit at him. “And here, lemme help you off that IV.” She set the clothes down at the foot of the bed and moved towards him. “Can I see your arm, doll?” She asked kindly. Her long blonde hair made her appear a few years younger, and something about her kind eyes made Bill feel slightly bad to cause any trouble for her. 

“H… H-Has anyone t...t-talked to my parents?” Bill asked hopefully. Maybe at the last second they’d talk to the sheriff, and he could do something. Anything. So they wouldn’t take him away. Though, Bill knew this was extremely doubtful. He sometimes doubted if his mother even remembered he was there. 

The nurse looked at him and gently grabbed his arm, slipping the needled out and hanging it back up. 

“Afraid so, hun. But I know the place they’re taking you. The Robinson’s. Real nice folks. Beautiful house right outside Derry. Lotta kids your age. You can stay there until your parents are better.” She patted his back. “They’ll be here in about an hour. Shower, freshen up. Seandra and I will come up and see you off.” 

Bill only nodded. He hadn’t been exactly in the talking mood. He’d never been one to cause trouble, but he found himself considering bolting from the hospital and going home. 

But when he unfolded the size zero jeans and small youth flannel, he decided against it. Besides, they knew where he lived. He was old enough to know that they’d just come for him again. 

Bill made his way to the small, but clean, bathroom attached to his room. He inspected the facets knobs after setting the clothes down on the sink, and turned them to a nice and hot temperature. At home, the water would never get above a lukewarm. Bill decided that he’d relish the hot water while he could. 

He quickly scrubbed off, doing his best to get the sweat and grime that must have accumulated after he’d apparently passed out in Mr. Keen’s. 

As he stood there, the reality of the situation finally began to catch up with him. He was going to live with a house of strangers. Two adults he’d never met, and a giant group of kids who would probably want nothing to do with him. 

He’d spend his 12th birthday with people he barely knew. There would be no breakfast in bed, along with an overly excited Georgie and a doting mother. Or no trip to the New Haven hiking trails. ( A place Bill’s parents took him every year.) 

Nothing would be the same. Not the same house, or clothes, or parents, or even little brother. And he had no choice. 

Bill was ashamed when the tears fell from his eyes. He wasn’t a baby! He didn’t need to cry… but the tears didn’t stop. He didn't know what to do. Where to go. Who to talk to. The longer he stood under the hot shower, the more trapped he began to feel. The walls slowly closed in on him, and he could feel his breathing became more rapid. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he began to scratch at his arms rapidly. He dug his nails in as far they’d go, as it only seemed natural. 

“Bill?” a voice said from outside his room. But Bill couldn’t hear him. The only thing he could focus on was the new found ringing in his ears and the overwhelming urge to throw up. The burning in his arms from the deep scratches he’d made didn’t register. 

Minutes must have passed, Bill realized, when the bathroom door was slung open and a women he’d never met before barged in. 

“Bill?!” She asked frantically. She pulled back the shower curtain and turned the faucet off readily. His small frame shook. When had the water gotten so cold? He felt his breathing even out into slow shuddering breaths. The burning in his arms hit him full force, and he looked down to realize he’d made gashes down them. 

“Bill? Bill, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” The women asked, quickly handing him a towel and pulling back the curtain. Bill noticed she hadn’t left, only stood back and waited. 

With the towel wrapped around his waist, he reached out to clothe himself. He slipped on the flannel and jeans behind the curtain before stepping out. He took in the women in front him, realizing quickly she wasn’t a doctor at all. Her long back hair was braided down her side, and her clothes which looked appropriate for a Sunday morning service made her face look older than it was. 

“I’m Mrs. Robinson. Sorry we had to meet like this but seeing as I’m technically your legal guardian for now, Seandra couldn’t help. Are you alright?” She asked, a look of concern across her face. She reached out her arm and placed a hand soothingly on his shoulder. 

“I… I-I lost track of t… t-time.” Bill apologized, looking down at his arms once again. Mrs. Robinson only smiled at him slightly. 

“It’s alright. Can’t say my husband and I don’t do the same. We’re always late to church, dilly dallying in the mornings and such…” She trailed off slightly before spotting the scratches in his arms. “Oh! Oh, dear. Come on, let’s get you a bandaid, bud.” She said instantly beginning to usher him out into his room where Seandra and the nurse from before waited. 

“Afraid a nail caught his arm.” Mrs. Robinson said quickly as soon as Seandra caught sight of the wound. “Lisa would you mind bringing us a bandage or so?” Mrs. Robinson asked the nurse from before kindly. Bill was baffled at the lie, because well. Why lie? Although he was grateful she had. They both knew the shallow wounds hadn’t been caused by a screw, but Bill’s own hand. 

The nurse, Lisa, quickly came back with some gauze and disinfectant. Bill watched as she gently took care of the scratches. The gentleness was a stark contrast from what he’d be receiving at home since Georgie had went missing, and Bill relished the touch for just a moment before Seandra spoke again.

“Well then. Mrs. Robinson, would you mind signing a few papers for us?” 

Bill turned his head up and shifted uncomfortably. He felt more like a puppy than a kid who was being adopted from the pound. Mrs. Robinson’s brow furrowed a bit before she handed Bill a ten dollar bill from her pocket and turned to him. 

“Why don’t you go buy yourself a treat from the vending machine in the hall? I’ll just be a second.” Bill looked at the money, and desperately wanted to snatch it and run out into the hallway. When was the last time he’d had a sugary candy bar? Or even a soda? He did his best to compose himself, but despite his wishes he felt a smile bloom across his face as he took the money out stretched to him.

“T… T-Thanks!” He said, scurrying out of the room moderately fast. The closer he got to the machine full of sweets, the more he felt like he was five again. His parents had hardly allowed him to eat such sugary things (Despite the fact he’d always had a massive sweet tooth) and he certainly hadn’t gotten any such thing in the last few months. 

Bill felt shameful for taking the money without any resistance, but he quickly pushed it down when he saw all the options. His eyes landed on a Skor bar that was just too hard to pass up, and a can of Surge that called his name like no tomorrow. He’d hardly noticed when Mrs. Robinson came out of the room and approached him.

“Bill? Don’t eat too much too fast, hun.” She said, but smiled nonetheless as the boy turned towards her, practically chugging the can of Surge. He did, however, begin to slow slightly when he felt his stomach scream in protest. “Ready? I have to stop by the store for dinner tonight, but that shouldn’t take long.” 

Bill only nodded slightly. He’d never been a particularly outgoing person. People often didn’t have the patience for him to try his hardest on every other word. And the fact he’d be thrown into a whole situation of fuckery didn’t help. Could someone tell him how this all happened in a day? Because he still wasn’t sure. 

By the time they were approaching Mrs. Robinson’s car, the Skor and Surge where gone.

“So. Bill. Tell me what you like to do. Things you like to eat. Your favorite movies. That’ll really help us a lot to make you comfortable.” Mrs. Robinson said as she sat in the driver's seat of the minivan.

Bill sat for a moment, thinking. 

“W...W-Well, I like to write. And d-draw.” He said hesitantly. “A… A-And I love horror movies. And ice cream.” He kept going. It’d been awhile since anyone had asked about his interests. “B… B-But I also like reading t-too. My favorite book is actually The M… M-Mist.” 

Mrs. Robinson smiled a bit, looking at him. “One of my other foster boys, Richie, he loves making up characters and voices. If you enjoy writing, I’m sure you’ll get along.” She said. Bill’s smile dimmed slightly before falling completely. He’d almost forgotten he’d be around a bunch of other kids. Kids he didn’t know. He didn’t have the best track record for making friends. 

“Coming or staying?” She asked when they’d reached the small market. On instinct Bill hoped out of the car, in fear of being suffocated by the heat. They made their way in, and Mrs. Robinson handed and handheld basket to Bill. 

“Pick out some things you like, we keep tons of food in the pantry and freezer box.” She ruffled his hair a tad and began pushing a cart around the smaller store. The rows lined with foods, junk foods. And that's precisely where Bill went. He’d been craving a box of Delicious Deals for awhile now. 

He also grabbed a few plums, as well as a carton of ice cream. What could he say? His taste palate had always been pretty odd. By the time he’d found the things he wanted, Mrs. Robinson pulled her cart up beside him. 

“Got everything you need, bud?” She asked, looking in his cart and wrinkling her nose and smiling a bit at the odd choices. 

“Y… Y-Yeah. Is it too m-much?” Bill asked, slightly worried his choices were too pricey or too much of a burden. However Mrs. Robinson was quick to shake her head fiercely. 

“Not at all! Anything you want, we’ll get.” They made their way up to the counter together. Bill expected to see Marge, the older women who’d alway worked the register. But instead, a man with slightly grown out (but neatly kept) fiery red hair stood in her place. His blue eyes sparkled and his pale and slightly baby looking cheeks smiled when he saw them. Bill simply starred as Mrs. Robinson and he conversed. He’d never really seen him around Derry, but he hadn’t been out much lately anyhow. 

“And you, Little buddy? How are you on this sunny day?” The man asked, and Bill suddenly focused in on the conversation. Had he called him Little buddy? Was he five? Regardless, Bill smiled slightly in return and began to answer.

“I’m a…a-alright.” Bill said, turning his attention to the name tag that hung off the young mans apron. Robert? Yeah he’d certainly never met this man before. The man, Robert, seemed to trill delightfully at his response. There was something off about him, something Bill couldn’t quite place. 

Once they’d finished paying, Mrs. Robinson and he had began putting the groceries up in the trunk. By the time they were back in their seats, and had begun to pull out, Bill thought he could almost forget about the mystery man named Robert and his very odd nicknames. But has he looked up, and through the window of the shop, he noticed Robert standing there. He was looking right back at him, not maliciously or blankly. Just a dazzling smile that could quite possibly charm anyone who saw it. But as Bill watched him pick up his arm and wave at him enthusiastically, he couldn’t help but feel extremely off as the car pulled away and he was left wondering who exactly Robert was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading friends  
> sorry if it sucks  
> comment please  
> i’m desperate for friends  
> and constructive criticism


	3. Meet the Robinson’s

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi so i’ve not updated this in forever and i am So SO SO SO SORRY. like screeeee. so much has been going on and i feel so badly so i swear on my life i will have another chapter up by tomorrow. thank you sm for reading.

The Robinson’s home was weird. Very, very weird. A stark contrast from the house Bill had been living in for the past year. As soon as he’d stepped out of the van, Bill felt like shrinking in on himself. Mrs. Robinson smiled at him reassuringly, but he still felt uneasy. He saw the curtains of second story windows move around, and he could vaguely make out the shadows of kids moving around. 

Mr. Robinson, a slightly older man stepped, out of the house and began making his way toward them. He stopped, kissing his wife, and Bills knees suddenly shook as he considered bolting from this place here and now. But before he had the chance, Mrs. Robinson was rubbing on his shoulder kindly. 

“Bill? This is my Husband. Mr. Robinson.” Bill looked up slightly, but cast his eyes quickly down. He knew this man wasn’t his father, but the smell of whisky was still fresh in his brain the night his father had decided he’d had enough of him. Not that Bill was afraid of his father. He wasn’t. Of course, but just to be safe. 

“That’d be me! I’m assuming your Mr. William Denbrough.” He held out his hand, and Bill shook it squeezing it firmly like his father had taught he and Georgie when they were young. “Firm grip, boy. Respectable.” Mr. Robinson laughed jovially, and Mrs. Robinson had rubbed the fly away hairs he’d had in the back, and by the next moment they were headed up the front porch. And suddenly Bill couldn’t take it anymore. This wasn’t his family. And it never would be. He felt himself begin to shake, and hot tears fell down his face, and he jerked his body away from Mrs. Robinson. 

“L… Leave me a-alone!” He yelled, overwhelmed when Mrs. Robinson pulled him back closely against her. He heard her say something, but he wasn’t sure to who. He wanted to go home. He wanted Georgie. He wanted his mom, and his dad. And nice dinners after church on Sunday. And to hear the piano on saturday mornings as he sat by his mom as her fingers danced beautifully across the keys. He wanted his family back.   
“Bill, doll it’s okay. What’s wrong, honey?” She said, gently grabbing his chin to look him in the eyes. 

“I wa-want my mom.” He said pitifully. The words sounded childish, even to him. And he hated it, almost as much as he hated himself. But he couldn’t stop the feelings that had gathered over the last year. “I want m… my brother. I wan-want my family!” He almost yelled. He felt Mr. Robinson kneel by him and offer him a tissue. He took it and rubbed at his nose. He felt Mrs. Robinson rubbing small soothing circles around his back, and he assumed she had been the entire time.   
“Oh, I know honey. It’s okay to cry, and miss them. But you’ll have a good time while your here. We have boys your age, and video games, and lots of books, and art supplies! You’ll have fun! Why don’t we clean those tears off your face and we can meet them?” Bill sniffled again. 

Meeting people had always scared him, but any distraction from his miniature panic attack and aching feeling in his heart sounded good to him. He nodded lightly, and she smiled at him. 

“Hun, get the boys please while I get Bill some water.” Mrs. Robinson asked lightly, as she dabbed Bills tears with a tissue. “Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen.” 

Bill looked around as they walked through the house. Realizing how big it really was. “I… I’m sorry i’m s-so difficult.” Bill mumbled lightly, “Y-your house is very n… nice.” Mrs. Robinson turned to smile at him brightly. 

“You’re not difficult, silly. Just stressed. We all get stressed. And thank you! One of my foster sons, Eddie, helps me decorate. He’s got quite the eye for furniture and color coordination, as it turns out.” Bill still remembered Eddie. And thinking of the small sassy boy he had been helping to furnish this giant house made him giggle. He was glad he was doing okay. 

Mrs. Robinson handed him some water, and he sipped at it while he sat at a stool when a group of boys came down. One he immediately recognized as Eddie, and the others he had never met before. 

“Bill, this is Stan, Richie, Eddie, Ben, and Mike. Stan, Richie, Eddie, Ben, and Mike, this is Bill.” Mrs. Robinson walked around the kitchen island before patting Ben on the shoulder. “Get to know each other, I’ll be doing laundry.” She smiled. “Bill, honey, hollar if you need anything.”

“Woah, what happened to you?” One boy with unruly hair, Richie she had called him, said. “Did something happen to your body? Are you dying?” Bill shrunk into himself a tad, as he usually did. 

“Richie! What the fuck, you can’t say that to someone!” Eddie yelled, elbowing him in the ribs. “What if I just came up to you and asked you what happened to your face?” 

“My face?! Have you seen your mother? I’ll have you know the ladies find me dashingly handsome!” 

“Ladies? What ladies? I’ve only ever seen you suck face with a frog for a dare, and that’s the closest you’ll ever get to ‘ladies’!” 

Bill just watched as the exchange took place, before Mike finally held out his hand. 

“Sorry about them. I’m Mike, Mike Hanlon. Richie just meant your skinny, that’s all. Not bad.” 

“Yeah! You’re like, the exact opposite of Haystack here!” Richie yelled from the floor, as he had gotten tackled moments prior. The boy Ben blushed a tad at the attention called to him. 

“I’m Ben, most people just call me Haystack.” he said quietly, and Bill offered him a small smile. Mike brightened seeing Bill smile.

The slightly taller boy standing in the back stepped forward, clutching a book about Birds under his arm. “And I’m Stan, Stanley Uris.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hell o   
> Thank you so much for reading my trashy w o r k   
> I shall try and update when I can but i don’t have a life so That’ll probably be often


End file.
